


American Blood

by goldenboy_gav



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboy_gav/pseuds/goldenboy_gav
Summary: Michael’s mark was nowhere near as fun. Boring, simple. Written in plain text on his skin was the word “hi.” The letters were taunting most days, a common conversation starter that he had been left with. His future felt hopeless when he realised how mundane his mark was. Michael was not simple, he lived in a whirlwind of explosions. His life was dynamite, everything he did was done with damage in mind. He wasn’t in his crew for the money, he was in it for the mess. He did his work with a vigour that his boss was scared of.orGavin loves to say hi.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones
Comments: 5
Kudos: 160





	American Blood

**Author's Note:**

> The work schedule is going to be roughly Wednesday/Sunday, the next fic will be posted at the same time (hopefully) next Wednesday with a minor delay next Sunday because I'll have to do it from my phone. Please enjoy this series as much as I do!

The thing that Gavin hated about his soulmate was the scars that had been left on his skin. The tattoo wound like ivy from the top of his arm to the bottom of his wrist. It settled there like a wound, screaming and sharp. The words were covered in barbs, a screaming continuous sentence. Insecurity, an annoyance. Something that had to remain hidden. The style that caused a stir, his mother was scared, his brother spewing at the mouth when he had seen. Controversial art that just couldn’t help but make him laugh. 

They were sharp, like knives with a biting edge. Each word reaching a point, each time a stab to his skin. Harshly written yet seeming _fun_. This game he could play knowing what he knew, just to cause a spat, the screams that he hungered to hear. A conversation went awry, the buttons he hungered to press with everything in him. An inevitable conversation that scared and excited him. Words that blared red flags in his eyes and left butterflies in his stomach. 

A person with the power to harm him and the power to love him simultaneously. A person that he couldn’t wait to meet. 

\-- -- -- 

Michael’s mark was nowhere near as fun. Boring, simple. Written in plain text on his skin was the word “hi.” The letters were taunting most days, a common conversation starter that he had been left with. His future felt hopeless when he realised how mundane his mark was. Michael was not simple, he lived in a whirlwind of explosions. His life was dynamite, everything he did was done with damage in mind. He wasn’t in his crew for the money, he was in it for the mess. He did his work with a vigour that his boss was scared of. 

The thought of his soulmate not fitting into that somewhere was terrifying. How wrong could the fates really be? This tapestry that wound his life, it would be ridiculous for someone he was destined to be with wouldn’t be wound in with the rubble and yet he wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t want to dwell on it too much. The thoughts would hurt too much if it went on too long. 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin can’t remember the first time he heard of the Fakes. It might have been in his first crew, where the bosses and their successors would love to gossip with him. They let their tongues run a lot around him, mistaking his intent listening as trust. They would speak of others, crews that weren’t particularly large yet and showed potential. Which bugs they wanted to squash before they evolved. 

Gavin couldn’t wait to leave his first crew. They were so much of everything and yet none of it was what he wanted. They were all power-hungry wolves, they didn’t want the fanfare that Gavin had always enjoyed, only the control that they weren’t quite big enough to have yet. 

He remembers his first conversation with Geoff Ramsey as though it was weeks ago. He’d been to Los Santos on business, he was on his 3rd crew back then, a negotiator for hire after their old one had been shot. He had needed to see a ‘kingpin’ so they could gain leeway on their territory, a deal that he was being paid handsomely for. 

He remembers just chatting for hours, complimenting the print inside his blazer, asking about how he cared for his facial hair. Things that people put effort into yet no one acknowledged. He had nestled himself inside Ramsey’s brain then, a young adult with no real-world prospects. Ramsey had basked in the compliments, had talked Gavin through his life story before he realised how much he’d revealed just through simple companionship. People are always much more flexible with their secrets when they think they’re talking to someone who they can trust. 

He remembers telling Geoff he wasn’t tied to a crew at some point, citing that all of them had double-crossed someone at some point. Too difficult to trust a gang who willingly can kill their crewmates. Just let it slip, something hanging in the air. 

He doesn’t remember much else that he did, remembers ringing up his current boss after saying he’d given them 20% more land than what they had. 

Geoff Ramsey had stuck like glue in his brain, a doorway to a good life. Maybe his brain knew even then, Ramsey would have to call him at some point - even if it ended up feeling like forever since they’d last seen each other. 

\-- -- -- 

Michael wasn’t happy when Geoff had informed the crew of a trial member joining them later. His shower that morning was too cold, the coffee machine was broken and the backup instant coffee never felt the same, the local 7-11 was out of Red Bull and he had got his hopes too high when someone had said “Hi!” to him earlier that day. 

To say Michael felt like shit was an understatement. He didn’t want to deal with another stray Geoff had found on a street corner, these people he picked up and shoved on b-team to help out with their aftermath seemed to pop up every now and again. 

“He’s running with us for a week, a new frontman,” Geoff explained in their meeting. 

Michael leant forward in his seat, a new main crew member. It had seemed like lives ago Ray had left and here they were building the main crew back to 6. Michael was apprehensive though, they had never had a frontman, Geoff did all the talking yet apparently he’d found someone better than he was. 

“He made me confess my life story in half an hour, by 2 hours he’d secured a crew he had no ties to more land in the area. If he stays, we’ll have much more power than before.” 

Michael just hoped he wasn’t a complete dick. 

\-- -- -- 

When Gavin walked into the Fakes’ penthouse he saw the Vagabond first. He had his makeup done but not the mask on. Nothing wrong with too much secrecy, especially if Geoff had told them about his track record. 

He wasn’t quite prepared when he saw Mogar though. He had large bags under his eyes, his face was flat and he wasn’t quite sitting right. Gavin needed to talk to someone though, get it all out his system before the Vagabond cut his tongue out and fed it to the strays around the corner. 

“Hi!” Was all Gavin had managed to get out before Mogar cut him off with a deep sigh. 

“If I hear that fucking word again today I am going to rip your balls off and force you to fucking choke on them, that word has been said to me so many god damn fucking times and every single one turned out to be a stupid fucking disappointment if I hear one more fucking stranger say “Hi!” to me I am going to fucking kill your or myself, and I don't know which one it is yet - you hear me?!” He snapped. All it took, a word for him to reach his breaking point. The stress of a day had weighed on him too much. 

Gavin just started laughing maniacally. He always thought the push would be more, he thought he would say it at least 3 times to get a reaction. Yet there he stood, in some upend kitchen laughing his ass off. It felt almost expected to be this underwhelming, just a long-winded rant that he didn’t care for too much. 

“God, I waited 20 years for that?” He questioned, appalled. He always thought it would be so much more dramatic, he wishes he had confetti with him to top the moment off. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Mogar asked, slightly tickled yet unsure. 

Gavin just rolled his sleeve up, where barbed wire met the voice that spoke it into existence. He showed off his pointed words in a way that made the moment much more sentimental. He let Michael’s name rattle in his head too, a weird way to be introduced yet one that made the name taste delicious on his tongue. 

Michael examined it word for word, laughing at how ridiculous it was to have to go around with a tattoo that looked so angry on someone who looks like they’d be knocked over by half a punch. 

“You deserve that tattoo,” Michael said when he finished looking. He had traced the letters with his fingers, allowed his eyes to roam over the black ink in a way he had never cared to look at anything before. 

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” Gavin asked. 

“I mean, you said hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, comments and kudos are always appreciated, see you on Wednesday when I post Touch!
> 
> This series is going to be 7 parts, all completely unconnected to one another. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> For updates on fics please follow my tumblr @goldenboy-gav :)


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